


Her Keeper

by Em117



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Sexy Times, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:19:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em117/pseuds/Em117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olwen, a Legionnaire war veteran and the "Dragonborn", ran out of a bar in a drunken rage, and met someone who will change her fate. Who is this little jester? And what is this damn voice she's hearing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wheel and the Voice

“She didn’t wish for this. She deserved better.”   
~  
Olwen sighed, lifting a flagon to her lips. The barmaiden sighed, “Look, elf,” the Nordic woman said “Pay now or I’ll shove a sword in your...” Olwen cut her off, her long arm reaching into a pouch around her waist. “Have you no respect for a soldier?” Olwen laughed, handing her the coin. “A soldier?” the maiden chuckled “I wouldn't call your damn service to a dominion worthy of being called a “soldier””. Olwen stood up, half-drunkenly slamming her fist onto the counter-top “Damn it!” Olwen yelled, clenching her fists. “For the last god damn time, I was a Legionnaire! Can’t you see my damn armor, woman?!”. The barmaiden stepped back, and Olwen stormed out. “Damn racist Nord scum, see an Elf and assume she’s a Thalmor shit monger I’ll show her…” Olwen was cut off when in her fit of rage she bumped into a small imperial man on the road. ‘Damn, I must’ve been sprinting from Whiterun…’ she thought, realizing she was at a farm in the Pale.

“DAMN THIS WAGON WHEEL!” The little man screamed, almost dancing in rage, flailing his hands about him. Olwen giggled at his clothes, a little jester outfit of black and red, and slightly bent down to his level. “Problem?” She asked, looking into his big, puppy-like eyes. The little man, by the name of Cicero, frantically explained to Olwen that his wagon wheel had broken and he was trying to transport his mother’s corpse. But the farmer up the hill, Vantus Lorieus, refused to help him. Olwen then decided she would go speak to this Lorieus.

She might have taken her approach a little more aggressively than one should. 

Olwen walked up to the farm, and casually opened the door, as this is not a strange thing to do in Skyrim. “Hello!” his wife said, waving at Olwen. The Altmer woman was about as tall as her, with large eyes and a wide smile. Her husband, a stocky little Imperial man, barely taller than Cicero, then spun around. “Oh in Mara’s name, what is it now?!” He yelled, looking up and Olwen. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” Olwen smiled, looking over at his wife. “I have business to attend to with your husband.” The woman look puzzled, and raised a brow at her husband. I almost snorted, I knew what she was thinking, I must be her husband’s lovely little fling. Vantus violently shook his head, and his wife walked out of the house.

Now our lovely Lorieus was a very unlucky man on this day. Olwen was in a particularly bad mood. A few Stormcloak survivors had charged her, she nearly got rockjoint from a skeever, and don’t get started on the fact that Black-Briar mead prices had gone up. Olwen would take no shit, and she knew that’s exactly what this man would give her.

“So what do you-“ he shivered as Olwen cut him off with a dagger to the throat. “Skyforge Steel…gorgeous, isn't it?” she sighed, tilting her dagger slightly. “Now, here’s how this will go. You are going to fix the fool’s wheel. I’m going to escort you down there, and oversee the job. Understood?” Olwen stated in a chilling monotone. “Yes! Yes…of course.” Vantus exhaled nervously. Olwen opened the door, keeping the dagger to his neck, and shut it respectfully behind her. She informed the wife she wasn't going to harm him if he was obedient, and she timidly scurried inside like a rabbit. 

Cicero had never seen such a woman…womer? Cicero pondered on this until his eyes widened at the sight of Olwen, returning to him with a dagger to Lorieus’s neck. “Dear stranger…” Cicero said in an almost aroused tone that could only be described as a growl “I do enjoy your…methods.” Olwen was not sure how to feel about what he said. But this was no time for worrying about that. “Fix it.” Olwen said, shoving Vantus to the wheel. 

Cicero and Olwen talked, Olwen told old war stories and Cicero spoke of Cyrodiil. Lorieus finished quickly. “You see?” Olwen smiled in a sultry manner “Was that so hard?” Lorieus nodded, and left when Olwen swatted him in signal to go back up to his home. Olwen and Cicero’s giggling was interrupted by Olwen hearing a voice. “Listenneerrrr….” The old and empty voice sighed “I have found you at laaaaaassst… Tell Cicero these woooorrrdddssss… ‘Darkness Rises, When Silence Diessss…’” 

“Dearest Olwen?” Cicero inquired curiously. “You dazed off for a moment.”  
“Did you…hear that, Cicero?” Olwen said warily.  
Cicero seemed to tense up in a joy-like manner No! But did you hear something? Did that something tell you to tell me something?!” He choked, almost jumping up and down.   
“Um…yes. Something about ‘Darkness Rises When Silence Die-‘” Olwen was unable to even complete her statement before Cicero screamed and yelled “LISTENER!”, then proceeded to tackle her to the ground in embrace.  
“Listener…?”  
“I have much to tell you! Hop upon my wagon, we will talk as we travel!”  
Olwen had no way of knowing that her life was about to change entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> author's note

Hey, reader(s).  
I am currently placing "Her Keeper" on a slight hold. It will probably come back, however I have been busy with my other book, "The Wolf and the Rabbit", a non-fanwork that will be on wattpad soon.  
I may occasionally post chapters, however nothing is certain.  
Apologies <3  
~Em


End file.
